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Wednesday, September 26, 2012

The Master

Review by Bob Ignizio

Equally compelling and frustrating, THE
MASTER tells the story of two
men of questionable character. Freddie Quell (Joaquin Phoenix) is a
World War II vet with a knack for mixing up intoxicating beverages
from often dangerous ingredients. His anger always bubbling just
beneath the surface, perhaps Freddie's rage stems from post-traumatic
stress disorder, or it may go back even further to an unhappy
childhood. Aside from his anger management issues, Freddie also
exhibits some unusual and at times wildly inappropriate sexual
behaviors.

The
other man is Lancaster Dodd (Phillip Seymour Hoffman), a writer who
has recently started his own movement known as “The Cause”.
Although there is no direct 1:1 correlation, the Cause is clearly
modeled on Scientology, with Dodd a surrogate L. Ron Hubbard. On the
surface, Dodd seems well adjusted and happy-go-lucky, a walking
advertisement for his program of “processing”. Occasionally,
however, there are cracks in his armor that indicate repressed anger
and sexual issues.

The
two meet when Freddie stows away on Dodd's boat and shares some of
his homemade hooch with the man. Dodd takes a liking to Freddie,
perhaps sensing a kindred soul, and sets out to use his methods to
cure Freddie. Freddie, happy to have someone show him kindness for a
change, goes along with it, and perhaps even convinces himself that
Dodd's cure is working. Any time someone pushes Freddie's buttons,
however, the anger comes back to the surface, usually accompanied by
violence.

Can
“the Cause” help Freddie? Is it a sham? Or is Freddie simply
beyond the help of both traditional psychology, as seen early in the
film, and Dodd's more metaphysical approach? THE MASTER
raises these and other questions, but offers very little in the way
of clear answers. At the end of the film, it's difficult to say
exactly what writer/director Paul Thomas Anderson was going for.
That's the frustrating part.

The
compelling part is largely in the performances, with both Phoenix and
Hoffman creating indelible characters. As is often the case with
Anderson's characters, neither of these men are inherently likable,
and yet we still wind up invested in what happens to them. And of
course, Anderson's direction and knack for shot composition is top
notch as always. He's one of the very few American directors working
today who gives his audience genuinely amazing visuals, and none of
them have anything to do with special effects or action choreography.

While
assigning a star rating is always my least favorite aspect of
reviewing a film, with something like THE MASTER
it seems especially pointless. Part of me wants to hail it as a
masterpiece, while at the same time part of me sees it as a
fascinating experiment that didn't quite work, like Anderson's PUNCH
DRUNK LOVE. At present it falls
somewhere in the middle for me. This feels like the kind of film that
takes time and subsequent viewings to show its true quality, but
that's a luxury I don't have. I can say that this is a film geared
mainly to the critics and hardcore cinéastes,
not the average moviegoer looking for a little light entertainment on
a Friday night. It's a complex, distant, and ambiguous film, and I
feel that this review describes it well enough that readers can
decide whether it's for them or not. Take the stars with a grain of
salt and, if you just skipped down here right away, read the full
review. 3 out of 4 stars.